A Place to Rest
by ajax41
Summary: Post X1.  Introduces Gambit.  RemyLogan friendship fic.  Follows Remy from late childhood into adulthood and his life as a thief.  Rated for language.  Rating may change.  Suggestions welcome.  Costars: Storm, Belladonna, Jubilee, Lapin, Scott, and Rogue.
1. The Players

**Author's Note: **This is my fist fic so criticism is welcome. If you would like to beta this let me know. This fic is set after X1 and may incorperate some things from X2, but will be AU from there. I will borrow heavily from comicverse but not stick to cannon. To avoid confusion: Bella and Remy's wedding is set for Bella's 18th birthday and she is two years older than him. Lapin is the same age as Remy and Singer is 20 at the beginning of this fic. I apologize to Romy fans but I'm not sure I'll have him end up with Rogue. Please read and review. I do not own anything in this. All characters and such belong to Marvel. I do not own the National Enquirer either, and to my knowledge they never tried to interview Wolverine.

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Wolverine bit back a growl. He didn't know why SHIELD was sending him to Japan via commercial jet rather than military transport, but it wouldn't be a good idea to scare the civilians with his "animalistic" tendencies. He may not care what people think of him but dealing with them was an unnecessary hassle. Too many idiotic tourists seemed to think it was a good idea to use their camcorders to get visual evidence of a "wild man among us." This was supposed to be a covert operation and Wolverine couldn't completely forget the time he'd discovered just how difficult it was to scare off a reporter from the _National Inquirer_. Hell, the man had been more tenacious and more ruthless than any assassin. 

He really needed to stop doing favors for Fury. He cringed when a three-year-old, twelve rows back, got airsick. Fucking enhanced senses. There were way too many people on this flight ; way too many sounds and way too many vile smells, which he didn't want to identify, even if he could. He supposed he was lucky he wasn't the woman in front of the kid. She now desperately needed to wash her hair. Fury had been unusually vague about the nature of the assignment, promising details later. Wolverine never considered that to be a good sign and had anyone but Fury been so evasive Wolverine would have refused from the get-go. Wolverine respected Fury and he trusted him, but if his questions weren't answered soon Fury could find someone else to handle the problem.

One Month Earlier

A tall auburn-haired teenager fidgeted in the entranceway of a small church in the French quarter of New Orleans. His copper bangs fell over his unusual eyes as he tilted his head down to look at his watch, "She's late Lapin, she shoulda been here… in anoder t'ree minutes. So she ain't late. She still shoulda had de decency to be early for somet'ing like dis." Lapin grinned. He had never seen his cousin visibly nervous before, "Remy, I don' think dere be set etiquette fo' punctuality when gettin' married, in secret, six months before your set wedding date. Calm down. Bella'll be here."

Remy sighed. Lapin's words would be more comforting if Remy couldn't feel the strain literally radiating from the shorter red-head. His empathy was growing stronger and it was taking more and more effort to block the feelings of those around him. Even when his blocking was at its fullest he could feel the faint pulse of blurred emotion brushing the outer-edges of his mental shields, a constant reminder of the throngs of humanity that surrounded him in his native city. When his blocking was weak it threatened to overwhelm him and strong emotions from those near him or the emotions of those closest to him had an annoying tendency to penetrate his shields at all times. Belle's tardiness was making Lapin nervous too, but the entire scheme made Lapin uneasy. Maybe this was a bad idea. It had seemed so important when he proposed the idea to Belle, but now, faced with the prospect of something going wrong or the wrong person finding out, he was starting to get nervous. That could just be because he was standing next to Lapin.

Exactly at the stroke of one, two girls waltzed in the front doors. Their looks of pious serenity quickly morphed into identical self-satisfied smirks. They had made the boys sweat on purpose. The blonde wore a modest white sundress. Her friend wore navy capris and a t-shirt which read, "WWJD." Remy heard Lapin stifle a snort when he caught sight of it. Both boys had tensed when they saw the raven-haired young woman. They knew Singer well enough to know she wasn't what was generally considered "good people." She was dangerous. Neither boy knew her real name, but had heard the rumor that she had earned her pseudonym by torturing people for information. It was unlikely to be true, not being standard assassin procedure, but frighteningly easy to believe. The woman had an unhealthy love for her work. Remy fervently wished that Bella had asked her maid Maria to accompany her rather than her best friend. Maria was a nice, sweet girl who spent her spare time studying medicine with Tante Mattie. Remy narrowed his eyes at the girls. He couldn't yell at them for being late, they weren't, but how he wanted to.

Belle gave Remy a once-over while he tried not to fidget, it felt like he had been standing in one place forever. She smiled and Remy was relieved. He had been worried about his outfit. He was wearing dark jeans and a button down-shirt. He would have liked to wear something more appropriate for the occasion, but tuxes were hardly discreet attire for a fifteen-year-old wandering the streets of New Orleans at one in the morning. Lapin was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Remy returned Belle's smile and the four budding criminals entered the chapel with trained grace and silent footsteps.

Soft French filled the chapel as Father Peters performed the ceremony. Afterwards, the wedding rings were slipped onto chains and under clothing. Lapin and Singer re-affirmed their vow of silence to the newly-weds and stole home. Remy and Belladonna spent their first night together in a secluded area by the Mississippi and snuck back into their windows just as the sun started to come up. Remy grabbed his packed bags and was on his flight to Tokyo before his new wife went to breakfast.

Present

Wolverine breathed the relatively fresh air outside the Kyoto airport with some measure of relief. It wasn't the wilderness but it was better than the canned air he had been breathing until this moment. He promptly coughed as car exhaust hit his lungs. Alright, it wasn't much better, but it was better. He got into his waiting cab, gave the driver the address of his hotel, and pulled out his cell. He dialed a number by memory, "OK bub, time to start talking."

Two Days Earlier

Remy rolled over in his bed and answered his cell. He was greeted by the hysterical voice of his wife, "Remy, I screwed up. I need yo' help." He groaned, "Where are you?" "Kyoto."


	2. The Instigator

**AN: **Thanks for the reviews. Its been a while since this was updated but wedding planning, work, house guests, a flooded basement and other aspects of life kind of got in the way. So, this chapter is really short but I'll try to make the next one longer and put it up sooner. Let me know what you think of it, and feel free to make suggestions for what you'd like to see happen. I can't promise I'll use them, however.

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Sometimes Nicholas Fury really hated his job. It was stressful, it was demanding, and Fury thrived on that. It wasn't the workload that got to him, nor the anal details that had to be carefully managed. It wasn't even the considerably grave consequences of his decisions. No, what bothered him was how his job eroded his belief that humanity possessed a certain amount of innocence and decency. He was assigned to look into the death of Japan's most prominent environmental activist. Was it too much to ask that the culprit be some hardened criminal whose offences had become more grotesque with time? Or perhaps it could have been someone who'd seen war and become jaded? No, all evidence pointed towards a seventeen-year-old girl, a high school student. Cases like these made Fury wonder why he even bothered to try. What kind of world was he saving when even its children were corrupt? 

The silver lining, if you could call it that, was that there was some indication that the girl was guild. Unfortunately, SHIELD had never been able to find any real evidence that the guilds were more than a myth. Consequently, Fury suspected that the only reason his men were claiming she was guild was because they couldn't figure out why someone would hire a high school homecoming queen from Louisiana to kill a scientist in Japan. The guilds were rumored to be hundreds of years old and the rumors were steeped with superstition. Fury cared little for rumors but the most common claims were that the guilds were well-hidden, long-lived, and relied more heavily on passing their 'trade' down from generation to generation than on recruiting. For Fury this added up to one little fact; if the girl belonged to an organization, they could use her to find the organization and tear it apart. The source of the corruption could be destroyed, but first Fury needed a man whose judgment he trusted implicitly. He was expecting a phone call from that man any minute.

The difficulty was, Fury didn't have much for his friend to go on. They had more suspicions than evidence. To make matters worse, the evidence had started disappearing the day before.

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**Vote: **Who would you like Remy to wind up with (eventually)? Jubilee, Rogue, Kitty, or someone else? 

Should Belladonna live on as Remy's ex/estranged wife in New Orleans or should I kill her off?


	3. Explanations

**Author's Note:** Well I didn't get this posted any sooner, but it is longer. One out of two isn't so bad right? Anyway, any facts are taken from Wikipedia or Funk & Wagnalls encyclopedia (the stuff about Kyoto). For this fic you should know that the Antiquary was a very evil man whom Jean Luc ran out of New Orleans after adopting Remy. At this point in my own little alternate universe he was busted by SHIELD. He was not a sorcerer, I don't like mixing supernatural with science fiction all that much, so there will probably not be any magic in this fic. I went into Remy's childhood more in this chapter than I intended to, but oh well. I don't know if there is a University of Tokyo but if there is I'm sure it is no way connected with the X-men and does not accept fictional characters as applicants. Likewise, I chose the University of Tulane because it was the only university I could think of that is in New Orleans, and no slight against it is intended. Like always, constructive criticism and suggestions are appreciated.

**Warning:** BAD LANGUAGE. Wolvie gets a foul tounge when drinking and discussing crime with an old battle buddy. If bad language bothers you, don't read this.

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_"OK bub, start talking."_

A very slight smile formed on Nicholas Fury's face after receiving his friend's greeting. He responded in a level tone, "Kyoto is the artistic and cultural center of Japan. It was actually spared from bombing during World War II because of its cultural significance. It houses more than 2000 ancient temples and…"

Logan closed his eyes, rested his head against the squeaky leather seat he sat in, and counted backwards from ten, perfectly in sync with the rotation of the cab's wheels. "Why are you stalling?"

"This matter would be better discussed in person."

There was a pebble stuck in the tread of the cab's tires. Logan forced himself to focus on the sound of it hitting the pavement. Where are ya?"

Fury fought the urge to sigh. He reminded himself that he needed his friend's help, but this wasn't a conversation that he was looking forward to. This wasn't the sort of help he usually asked Logan for. It wasn't a simple matter of needing Wolverine's super-human abilities nor was it a case where Fury felt he could just turn the man loose to investigate and deal with the situation as he saw fit. "There is a bar in your hotel. Stop by and I'll buy you a drink."

"You'll buy me several. And lose the historical lecture; you sound like Cyke."

"Who?"

**2 Days Ago**

Remy slipped silently through the door of a dimly lit room. Skillfully avoiding the light of the moon, which drifted in through the window, he hovered in the shadows by the frame of the bathroom door. "Belle?"

The young woman started slightly. She shut off the faucet and grabbed a towel to dry her hands, although her husband noted that she had palmed a dagger hidden within the folds of the towel. "Remy? Dat you?"

"Oui. Yah allright?"

"I would be if ya didn' scare me half to death creepin' round my hotel like some. .. mm…"

"Thief?" Remy couldn't help a slight grin. Belle wasn't easy to fluster. She didn't blush but the outer edges of her ears would turn slightly pink. A fact showcased by her new, short, pixie-styled haircut. When had she done that? Remy's mind wandered briefly and he wondered if her silky curls would grow back by the date of their formal wedding. Maybe he should suggest she let them. After all, an assassin shouldn't have a tell like pink ears.

"Petty Burglar." Belle returned his grin.

Remy scowled in reply. "Hey now. Be nice."

His playful mood leveled and he grew more serious. "You're in trouble and we don' know how much yet. T'ought it would be best to be discreet." He could tell she had left the window open for his use, but really it was safer to use the door. The hallway was a relatively small area to check for surveillance. Even if Remy couldn't check as thoroughly as he would like without risking tripping over something and alerting people to his reason for being there, trying to canvas the entire area within telescopic range successfully would be far more difficult. Besides, a young American woman meeting a young American student of the University of Tokyo in her hotel room didn't scream criminal activity, but rather vacationing college kids. It certainly didn't scream criminal activity the way climbing in her window would and Remy knew he could pass for being reasonably older.

"D'accord." One thing Remy loved about Belle; she might have enough pride for every aristocrat and politician on the planet, but she wouldn't pursue a pointless argument knowing that she was wrong.

"Belle?"

"What?" Her hair glimmered gold as she entered the main portion of the suite.

"Dink I could get a kiss? Ain't seen ya in almost a month."

"'Course cher."

"Now ya wanna tell Remy what's goin' on?"

" I already told ya. I screwed up. I left evidence and dey know it's me." Her tone was cool and flat, utterly professional, and giving no emphasis to the impatience or frustration within her words.

"Mais, I need details. Every last minute detail. What evidence? Who has it? How much do you know 'bout what dey doing wit' it?"

**Present**

"Nick."

"Logan, good to see you." The suited man looked up at his companion. He focused his gaze on the man seated next to him but his glass eye made it seem that he was looking in two directions at once. They were an odd pair. One had graying hair that had begun to thin. The other, actually the elder, was permanently stuck in his prime. One spent his time swamped in bureaucracy, the other traveling through wilderness and engaging in cage fights in remote bars. One discreetly blended in with the patrons around him, while the other stuck out like a sore thumb, but did so with such innate confidence that no one thought anything of it. They were both well-muscled but one was clearly the physical superior. However, if anyone chose to look carefully enough they would recognize that both men possessed a hidden threat of violence beneath their calm demeanors.

Wolverine sniffed his beer. It wasn't a brand he'd tried before and it smelled… different. "You want to tell me what's going on now?"

"Three days ago Ichiro Sakamoto was killed. He was shot in his home just outside of town. The bullet passed through his brainstem. A silencer was used. The gardener outside didn't hear anything. The men I had investigating believe they found the criminal. What do you know about the Guilds?"

Logan snorted. "I've heard of them. You don't actually believe that crap do you?"

"Our assassin is a seventeen year-old girl from Louisiana. You explain it."

**Two Days Ago**

"So after I finish fightin' wit' de paper shredder I'm behind schedule and I gotta make my exit real quick. Well, the gardener, he didn't stick with his normal routine. Musta t'ought the flowers next ta da house looked dry cause he watered dem a day early, an I stepped right inta da mud. Ruined my new Prada heels."

"Ya wore heels on a job?"

"Stay focused Rem."

**Present**

"You sure she's your girl?"

"This wasn't a simple murder. We found a wastebasket full of shredded documents that seemed innocent enough until we found a fingerprint on one corner of paper jammed in the shredder."

"One fingerprint?" Logan didn't bother to hide his skepticism.

"It didn't belong to the dead man or his gardener," Nick replied, swirling his scotch.

"Were you able to match it to hers?"

"Well, no."

"You have any other evidence?"

"A pair of footprints in some mud outside the house. Women's size 7; American size 7 stilettos."

"Did you track them?"

**Two Days Ago**

"After I got past de mud I took my shoes off so I wouldn' leave a trail," Bella finished with a slight note of helplessness. She couldn't believe that she had screwed up in such an amateur fashion.

"Why did you take yo' gloves off ta mess wit de paper shredder?"

"One glove. I didn' want ta get ink stains on my gloves cause dey don' come out and I didn' want ta return ta America with anything incriminatin' missin' case I get checked by customs 'gain. An' I figured dat de shredder would destroy my prints. So I used a bare hand to handle the documents and a gloved hand to operate the shredder."

"Rubbing alcohol gets ink stains out," Remy muttered under his breath. He was trying not to be angry, but how could she be so stupid; risking fingerprints rather than destroying her gloves?

**Present**

"Why couldn't you match the print?"

"We didn't have anything to compare it to. Since she found out that we were after her, she doesn't touch anything barehanded, but this one bottle of hand lotion in her purse. She wears those cotton spa things in her room. You know, the ones that are supposed to keep your hands moisturized, and she wears 'stylish' gloves when she goes out."

"Can't ya get a print off that bottle? Or better yet, make her give you the full set."

"We don't have anything to compare it to."

"What?" a slight growl escaped Logan's throat.

"Our original disappeared, along with all digital and paper copies."

**One Day Ago**

"Mornin' cher."

"Mornin' Bella. Hey ya wan't ta go ta da Kyoto National Museum or da Kyoto Municipal Museum of Art first?"

Belle glanced at her husband. He looked rather ridiculous sitting upright in the middle of the bed, with his legs crossed, and his pillow over his face. She paused in her attempts to get her hair to flip out artistically rather than sporadically and grinned in amusement. "Remy ya sure the lamp doesn' bother ya too much?"

"Umm hmm," came the muffled response. The red-eyed teenager was definitely not a morning person.

Belle's amused grin turned devilish as she eyed his exposed torso. "Do we hafta go to dose stuffy old museums?" she asked as innocently as she could, "if we're goin' ta do the tourist thing can't we at leas' visit a garden?" She knew it was much more sensible to visit the museums. Remy was supposedly in Japan to study art history. He was actually in Japan because Jean Luc wanted him out of New Orleans until the wed…. er… to fine tune his skills under the tutelage of the highest ranking guild thief in the world and further his martial art studies. Belle could not resist teasing him though. While she didn't mind visiting museums and appreciated art as much as the next person, she didn't enjoy it the way he did. He always made he think of the proverbial "kid in a candy store." She was always slightly afraid that he'd get anxious and try to shove the Mona Lisa in his back pocket. He'd probably get away with it too, she mused with a smile. It would take hours to pry him away from the paintings once he found an exhibit he liked.

"It'll be easier ta lose and spot anyone following' us in da museum."

"We could jus' stay in de hotel room. Give dose peepin' toms an eyeful."

"Hehn?"

**Present**

"It disappeared," Logan was beginning to think this whole situation was a hoax. SHIELD did not lose things. It also did not get outwitted by teenage girls.

"Yes," Fury was silently praying that Logan would be the only one he had to admit this to.

"Are you telling me that our 17 year old assassin is also a master hacker and thief? Or does this fall under the genius theory of guild too?"

Fury cleared his throat and signaled the bartender to refresh his drink.

Logan groaned, "Don't even answer that. Do we know anything else about this girl? Her family? Does she have a record?"

"She's been caught shoplifting a few times, but charges were never pressed. Daddy always paid the store owners off."

"It's an awful big leap ta go from shoplifter ta cold blooded killer, but at least that rules out the master thief theory. She's not the one that destroyed the evidence."

"The interesting thing is that a few of the times that she got caught the stolen merchandise vanished from her pockets and reappeared on the store shelves before they got her all the way to the security office, and she didn't pass the shelves."

"So she had an accomplice. One that she's known a long time. When was her first offence?"

"When she was 12."

"And the first time the merchandise mysteriously found its way back to the shelves?"

"About five months later."

"So were talking about a childhood friend then. Someone more talented and more experienced, at least at picking pockets. Possibly convinced her to steal in the first place."

"Or someone older, supposedly 'training' her."

"Nah, wouldn't have allowed her to get caught. Besides, why train an assassin to steal? Who are the girl's friends?"

She has a few school friends in New Orleans, none with records and none who seem to fit the bill, but the day before our evidence disappeared her boyfriend showed up in Kyoto."

**One Day Ago**

**"**Twenty feet back, blue suit, green polka dot tie."

"Ya sure," Belle whispered as she paused to inspect some handbags. She had suspected him too but couldn't be sure. These men were so well trained that she was beginning to feel rather paranoid. She could no longer tell her pursuers from the regular pedestrians. She trusted Remy's empathy, however, to give them the edge they needed. He was normally very adamant about not using his powers for work, but his empathy couldn't be detected, much less traced the way his explosive abilities could, and he couldn't help picking up some of what went on around him, so if it was necessary to protect Belle and himself he would do it.

**Present**

"Boyfriend?" Logan started his seventh beer, "don't tell me he's a damn kid too."

"15."

"Where the hell did he come from? He couldn't have gotten here from New Orleans so fast"

"Tokyo. He's in a study abroad program at the university, art history, but he takes most of his classes in Japanese."

"What's a fifteen year old doing in college?"

"Child prodigy I guess. Home-schooled for a few years then enrolled in a special early-admission program at Tulane University. He's also taken courses in linguistics, several different foreign languages, electrical engineering, and computer science."

"He have a record?"

**One Day Ago**

"Now, mon amour why don' we check out what dis city is really known fo'?" The two criminals had spent the entire day touring the city and had figured out which two areas of town were most densely populated with their pursuers. One being near their hotel and the other presumably near the local base of operations of whoever was chasing them.

"And what dat, cher?"

"Geisha."

**Present**

"No record, but a rather interesting personal history."

"Define interesting."

"Do you remember the Antiquary?"

Logan was instantly alert, the hackles on the back of his neck raised, "Yeah, I remember the bastard, awful hard to take out for such an old man. Real sick piece of shit too. What's he got to do with this kid?"

"Well the kid's adoption records include a physical description of the boy. Red on black eyes, very distinctive. Ring a bell?"

"Not really, I didn't look into the details of that case very closely; just took the creep out. I didn't want to know more about him."

Fury quoted from memory, "The demon-eyed child was of particular interest to the Antiquary. Out of all his possessions…" here Fury couldn't help the disgust that slipped into his voice, "…the demon child was his most valued, reputably bordering on obsession, and one of the only children to successfully escape the Collection."

"Flamin' hell."

**The Previous Evening**

"What's so special about the Geisha?" Belle asked. She wanted to do something constructive and fast.

Her lover turned to her, mirrored sunglasses reflecting the light of the streetlamps, and smirked, "they keep their lips sealed."

**Present**

"You sure it's the same kid?"

"The descriptions match."

"The adoption records?"

"Obviously fake. The papers themselves are very well done forgeries but the typical accompanying records are missing."

"Such as?"

"Medical records, psychological evaluations, social worker reports. It's obvious that whoever created the adoption records could have made them infallible, but didn't think it was worth the effort."

"Probably assumed no one would bother to check on the welfare of a mutant kid," Logan assessed darkly.

"Well, no one has."

"Any idea where he was between the Collection and the adoption."

"No records, expect a brief two-month stay at a Catholic orphanage. He was picked up off the streets by the elderly priest who ran the place, and ran away after the priest died of natural causes. He didn't get along well with the other children."

"He didn't get along well? You mean he was bullied cause he was different then got chased off when the old man wasn't around to keep things in line."

"Most likely."

**The Previous Evening**

Shortly after the dinner provided by their gracious hostess, Remy excused himself to lie down because he was "feeling a bit queasy." He was shown to a room where he could be left in peace and Belle remained in the company of the Geisha to be entertained with songs and poetry. Remy slipped out of the building unseen into the shadows of the night and hid watching the man tailing him and Belle. If his calculations were correct the shift would change soon and he should be able to follow the man back to his headquarters.

Lady Luck was smiling on the young thief that evening and he only had to wait five minutes to put his plan into action. He stole through the night like the thief he was and pursued his pursuer.

**Present**

"How long did the kid live on the streets?"

"He escaped from the Antiquary when he was about seven and was adopted at about ten."

"That young? Shit. How old was he when the Antiquary got him?"

"Two weeks."

"Damn."

**Much Earlier That Morning**

Remy drove back into Kyoto on his borrowed vehicle. He had been lucky that this "SHIELD" organization had a land base in Japan and had not yet sent any paper files to their main base floating somewhere over an ocean, near as he could tell. You had to love the age of electronics. People got lazy about keeping hard copies and there was much less footwork involved. A little program whipped up by a bored Lapin had worked quite nicely to destroy the electronic evidence and fry their computer system, along with their communication system. Remy was a little confused as to why a major anti-terrorist, world peace protection agency was so concerned with Belle's relatively minor crime. She wasn't exactly plotting world domination.

**Present**

"Anymore questions?" Fury asked Logan, checking his watch. He really needed to get going.

"Yeah," Logan stated, catching Nick's gaze square in his good eye, "why is SHIELD involved in this? Couldn't you leave it to local law enforcement?"

"Sakamoto is rumored to have discovered some pending environmental catastrophe, due to the unethical business practices of a few companies in Japan and abroad."

"A bit of pollution is bad enough to involve SHIELD?"

"It's far more serious than a bit of pollution, we are talking about a serious and immediate global threat, but we don't know the specifics. The documents pertaining to it were shredded. The remains also disappeared last night."

**Early That Morning**

Remy slipped into the Geisha house and gave his wife an empathic nudge as he lay down. A few moments later she came into to room with the Geisha to collect him and take him home.

**Present**

"The boy's a mutant. What are his powers?"

"We don't know."

"You don't seem to know much. Is the girl a mutant?"

"Not to our knowledge."

**Present (Elsewhere)**

Remy idly scribbled away in his notebook, when he felt a wave of alarm from the blonde across from him and heard his lover hiss at him, "Remy, your socks are glowin'!" Remy concentrated on bringing the energy slowly back into his body, "Je suis desole," he whispered with a blush. He didn't make mistakes like that often; not since his powers were new. Belle breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the thin cotton return to its natural dull white and glanced around to make sure no one else had noticed before scooting over to him and wrapping her arms around him. He rested his head on her shoulder, muttering again about being sorry.

**Present (Bar)**

"So where are they staying."

"In this hotel of course. I booked you the room right across from theirs. Have a nice stay," and with that Nicholas Fury got up and left. He paused outside the entrance and added, knowing Wolverine's advanced hearing would pick it up, "don't forget to stay in touch."

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**AN II:** The poll for whom Remy should end up with is still open, now adding the options of no-one, and no-one specific (aka casual dating). 


	4. The Calm

**Author's Note:** Fury's in the story again. I never intended to use him much as a character but the one-eyed man just won't go away. What to do? Perhaps Lapin will chase him off next chapter. This was my first attempt at writing a dream sequence, let me know how it went. As always, critisism and suggestions are both welcome and appreciated.

**Warning!!! **This chapter contains allusions to adult subjects. They are fairly mild, but if such things bother you then don't read this chapter. It does not contain any crucial plot points. Also, please let me know if I should increase the rating.

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**The Hotel, Room 513**

"I booked you a room right across from theirs. Have a nice stay," Wolverine muttered under his breath mockingly. When he had heard the target couple enter their hotel room, he had thought it would be a good idea to listen in on them and see what they were up to. Now, he was lying on his hotel bed blushing like an overly modest school-girl during her first day of co-ed health class. He really did not want to know quite this much about them. "Screw the mission," Logan grumbled softly and turned on the TV. He flipped rapidly through the channels searching for something to focus his attention on. He didn't care if he missed a few pieces of information; he was not going to play voyeur to a couple of under-aged kids. He paused slightly, at the thought of them being kids, and made a mental note to find out what Xavier's policy was on boys in the female dorms when he went back to the mansion to check on Marie. Then, to be on the safe side, he dug out a post-it, wrote an actual note to do so, and stuck the note in his wallet. Frustrated with his inability to find anything decent to watch, he flipped to a station broadcasting a car race and allowed his enhanced hearing to home in on the monotonous sounds of engines, blocking out the intimate sounds from across the hall. He dug out the three files that Fury left with him. Well, the three electronic gizmos that he presumed contained the files. He started trying to figure out how they plugged into his computer. He really didn't understand why people felt the need to switch technology every six months. Floppy disks still worked didn't they?

**The Hotel, Room 514**

Across the hall, Belle smiled as she tucked her lover's hair behind his ear. His eyelashes fluttered slightly as she did so, but he was well on his way to sleep. She was slightly tempted to find something to drink, but she didn't dare to get out of bed and wake him. She knew he had to be exhausted. He had been up for well over 48 hours. She had caught an afternoon nap, while he worked on some paper, presumably over one of the exhibits they had seen yesterday. She wasn't sure if he was thoroughly solidifying his excuse for being in Kyoto, or if he was just taking advantage of a convenient paper topic. She assumed it was the first. Normally, no amount of convenience could get him to focus on something that didn't truly catch his attention. After finishing his paper, he had dragged her out for dinner, sick of being cooped up in the little room. He was always such a bundle of energy. It really was a challenge to get him to stay in one place for very long. Sometimes, she thought he was simply hyperactive, sometimes she thought his powers filled him with a living energy that he couldn't quite contain. He very often skipped sleep just because he couldn't sit still long enough to rest. Belle had learned however, that if he was tired enough, all she had to do was get him to stay still for five minutes and he would crash wherever he was, no matter what he was supposed to be doing. She knew that he hadn't slept his first night in Kyoto, electing to watch over her instead. Unfortunately, she hadn't realized this until morning when she caught him trying not to drift off from sheer boredom. Otherwise she would have put a stop to the ridiculous plan immediately, She could waken at the drop of a hat just as well as he could and she didn't need his protection. He really had allowed himself to drift for a scant 20 minutes after she had risen, but she hardly thought that counted. It didn't help that the poor boy had mistaken her innocuous comment about gardens for a genuine desire to see them. He had taken her to one that morning, stopping only to shower, change, and get something to eat. Sometimes he forgot she didn't have his energy, not that she would ever admit she couldn't always keep up with him. She could keep up with him when she needed to, but honestly, why couldn't he remember that you were supposed to sleep on a daily basis? So now he was asleep and she wanted to keep him that way, even if she was thirsty and had a nice bottle of water sitting in the bucket of ice just across the room.

**Room 513**

Logan grinned in satisfaction as he finally got the files on one of the gizmos to open. He reached over and picked up his room service steak. Munching on it, he wished more of his stake-outs took place in five star hotels. He'd have to check out the whirlpool in his bathroom later. Sighing he turned the TV off. It had been an hour; surely they couldn't still be… 'busy'. He sorted through the sounds of the night until he knew which came from the room across from him. He sighed again. He wouldn't be getting any useful info out of the kids that evening. One of them was sound asleep. The other was busy slurping water. No devious plans were being concocted. He wondered again if Fury didn't have him barking up the wrong tree entirely, before turning his attention back to the files. He left one ear tuned to the room across the hall, just in case.

**Room 514**

Remy's mind drifted as he slept. Shapeless images and blurred colors swirled through his dreamscape, dissipating immediately and leaving no impressions within his memory as his subconscious sorted through the events of the last few days in no particular order and no logical pattern. All images, sounds, and colors, faded into the silent darkness of sleep as quickly as they were created, none to be remembered in wakefulness. Then one image, seemingly at random, seemed to stand out. It was the painted face of the Geisha. Slowly the imagination filled in what the mind did not know; young women, all in a line, painstakingly painting their faces and arranging their hair. They dressed in fine silks, their kimonos all looking vaguely identical as the young women seamlessly morphed into young girls with whip marks on their backs.(1) They changed from on thing to another without the mind recognizing that a change had taken place, a phenomenon solely possessed by dreams. Likewise, the young girls morphed into young boys dressed in black velvet and colored silk. Suddenly the make-up needed to be reapplied, though the mind recognized nothing strange about this. Indeed, it had forgotten that the original make-up had ever been there. Frantically, concealer was used to cover bruises and mascara was used to bring out haunted eyes. Hair was twisted into chin length ringlets as the young boys stood all in a line. Soon the patter of bare feet would be heard, as the young boys, painted like dolls, would be herded into a room where the true nightmare would begin.

**Room 513**

Logan frowned as the smell of fear drifted into his nostrils. It was coming from across the hall. He listened more closely but only the sounds of deep breathing met his ears. They were both asleep now, though the heart beat of the first sleeper had picked up slightly and his breathing was not quite has even as before. Logan could tell now, from the scent of the fear, that it was the male that had fallen asleep first. Bad dream, he assessed. He snorted, as he turned back to his work. The file that he had managed to open first was about the boy. The file contained the boy's adoption papers, the results of his background check, financial information on his immediate family and a Mattie Baptiste, and the educational background of everyone close to the boy. Fury had also included the documentation from the Catholic orphanage that had housed an eight-year-old with red on black eyes for two months, the birth certificate for the child of a Jane Doe who had left her 'devil baby' in the hospital, the report to the police two weeks later that the child had gone missing, and every reference to the 'demon child' contained within the original case files of the Antiquary. He was serious when he told Fury that he didn't want to know anymore about the Antiquary than he already did. He didn't really see how any information on the bastard was involved with this case. Still, he was the one who always insisted on knowing everything about the people he was dealing with. It helped him predict the actions and reactions of his enemies. Logan sighed, either red on black eyes weren't as uncommon in New Orleans as one would assume or Fury was right and the adoption papers were fake. The timelines didn't match up at all. There were two seperate birth certificates; one attatched to the adoption papers, and one that wasn't. There were no medical files, except for the check-ups the child had recieved at the orphanage, and what passed for medical information in the files from the Antiquary. He groaned as he got to a particularly graphic description of how the child had once been punished for trying to run away. He pulled the 'gizmo' out of the computer and tossed it aside. If he ever felt he needed that information he could look at it then. He selected a different 'gizmo' and hoped it was the one containing what was left of the evidence actually pertaining to the case. After all, the girl was their suspect not the boy.

**Room 514**

The boys were in two rows now, kneeling and silent. It was always the same. There was no sense of time as they waited for their master to make his decision. Sometimes, it seemed he was impatient and called one of them forward immediately. Sometimes, it seemed he made them stay there for hours, kneeling on the cold, hard marble. This time he would call forth his favorite, the one who seemed to be picked more than the rest. The mind morphed the scene again and the other children were gone, their existence already forgotten. Now there was only the child and his master, alone in a dark void. As the master reached out, the boy could feel his mind invaded; ripped open and torn as his very essence was stolen. The scene shifted again. Now the boy was dressed in filthy rags, his hair long and unkempt, broken sunglasses atop his nose. An elderly beggar grasped his thin arm like a vise, as his mind was invaded. This time it was not emptied, this time it was filled; with desperation, and pain, and confusion, and things that he did not recognize as his own. The grasp tightened, ignorant of his pain, and new things filled boy's mind, things deeply dark and deeply disgusting. The hand gripping his arm morphed from skeletal and wrinkled to large and muscular; from female to male. This terror was too much and the conscious awoke from its slumber, fighting the subconscious, it tried to rise from the darkness. It rejected the images and shoved them into the recesses of the mind, struggling for control.

Belle's arm flew towards her purse, hand automatically searching for a weapon as she felt the weight of a body brush over her. It wasn't until the bathroom door audibly closed that she realized it was only Remy, who had taken a short-cut over top of her slumbering body. She sighed, returned her gun to her purse, and pulled out a hair tie. She followed the sound of retching to the bathroom door and knocked lightly, not wanting to startle him. "Remy? Cher, ya' all right?… Husband, please answer me," she pleaded unwilling to go in and risk scaring him. She still didn't know if this was physical or emotional. "I'm a'right," a soft voice responded. He hadn't immediately given her an excuse. This wasn't physical and he wasn't trying to pass it off as such. That wasn't a good sign. She entered, pulled his hair back for him, and busied herself wetting a washcloth with cool water to give him a moment to compose himself. All men had their pride. She sat down beside him, "Want to talk about it." "Non." It was bad then. She didn't ask anymore questions. She just sat quietly next to him, rubbing his back.

**Room 513**

Logan released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when he heard the safety device on the gun being reset. For a moment, he'd been afraid he'd have to clean up an accidental blood bath. His senses had told them there were still only two people in the room, but that hadn't stopped him from wanting to rush into the room and make sure no one was grievously injured before this mess was sorted out. He still wasn't completely convinced these kids were their culprits, but he wasn't about to let any members of SHIELD die on his watch either, and the ease with which the girl had pulled that gun didn't make her look particularly innocent. He retracted the portions of his claws instinctively poking out of his knuckles and returned to his room, glad that he'd refrained from actually breaking their door down and giving himself away. He continued to listen in on them, and was startled to here the girl call the other husband. Surely, these kids weren't married. He had to admit that they seemed fairly serious and they lacked most of the typical awkwardness that normal couples their age exhibited, but he'd assumed that was because they were focused on things going on outside their relationship. They were way too young to be married; it was probably some game they played based on future intentions. He would never understand kids. Logan needed to know more about them. Logan made a mental note to find out what else SHIELD had dug up on the girl's parents, the boy's adopted father, and the kids' connection to one another. He needed to know what was going on in New Orleans.

**Room 514**

"Ya' ready to go back to bed, cher?" Belle asked her husband quietly. "Oui," Remy replied, "mais 'm gonna shower first." "K," the blonde said and rested her hand lightly on his shoulder for a moment, before exiting the bathroom. She listened as the shower turned on, then borrowed Remy's laptop to email her brother Julien. She told her brother that the job had gone well, with no complications, and that she was planning on taking a few days to sightsee before returning home, and that he should convince her teachers that she had mono. She turned off the computer and went to bed, knowing her spouse would join her eventually.

**SHIELD Base, 41 km Outside of Kyoto**

Fury frowned as he received a request for more detailed information on the families of the two suspects.(2) Both families were 'old money' families. They had been consistently wealthy for years. On paper the wealth appeared to be maintained by the profit of well made investments. Both families were either extremely stock savvy or extremely lucky, but there was no indication that the money came from questionable sources; every penny was accounted for. Fury's men were comparing changes in the Boudreaux accounts to records of unsolved assassinations and attempted assassinations, for the past 200 years, trying to find any sort of pattern. They were also searching recent financial transactions of Belladonna, her immediate family, and Remy LeBeau; attempting to trace a money trail back to Japan or any major business that might be involved with the environmental disaster predicted by the deceased. Neither search was proving to be fruitful. They were also attempting find the person/company/companies that had hired the assassin, in order to track the money trail to the responsible party. This particular task was made exceedingly difficult by the sheer number of businesses, corporations, and monetary transactions taking place on any given day. They had no idea where to start. Fury's team's overtime hours had skyrocketed as they added yet another line of investigation without anymore personnel. They were now attempting to delve into the business transactions of the small companies owned by both the LeBeaus and the Boudreauxs. Marius Boudreaux, father of Belladonna, owned and ran a bank. Jean Luc LeBeau owned a small company that manufactured security systems. The initial interest in this detail was subdued by learning that the company didn't have a single design on hand that wasn't at least one or two steps behind the newest technological advancement. The company was, in fact, disappointingly mediocre. As far as immediate family was concerned; Julien Boudreaux worked for his father, and Henry LeBeau ran a small trade shop that had been in the family for generations and was kept for tradition rather than profitability. Both Marius and Jean Luc had lost their wives. Mercy LeBeau apparently supplied her husband's store with handcrafted quilts and other handicrafts. There were several other small businesses and restaurants owned by the extended family of both clans. The only thing interesting about this was that very few members of either family worked outside the family businesses. Unfortunately, none of the businesses appeared to be fronts for anything shady. The normal surveillance had yet to provide anything either. All communication within the families and every bit of contact the young couple had with the outside world was being monitored. The bugs planted within the couples hotel room were useless. No matter how many times they were replaced, they malfunctioned, with no sign of tampering. SHIELD's technicians had given up on discerning the cause of the malfunctions and speculated that the boy's mutation must disrupt them somehow through his presence. Fury had already included all known information in the files he left with his friend. He sighed and began a report for Wolverine on their progress. It would be short, they hadn't made any.

1. This is not meant to imply that modern Geisha are abused in any manner. Quite frankly, I know very little about the subject. This is supposed to Remy subconsciously reacting to the heavy makeup and servile attitude. He is projecting his own issues onto someone else. Please do not be offended.

2. Belle is a suspect for the assassination of the environmentalist. Remy is a suspect for destruction of evidence.

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**A/N II:** Due to popular demand, Rogue and Remy will go on at least one date. (_sighs in resignation) _That's what I get for not making up my own mind. 

Does anyone have any suggestions on what immediate, world-threatning, ecological disaster could be caused by a handful of businesses? I'm drawing a blank, but it will be somewhat important later. I don't care about scientific accuracy so long as their is some grounding in logical thought. It would really help me out, thanks.


	5. Leading To

**Author's Note:** Julien shows up in this chapter. Also, I've unfortunently never been to Japan much less a stayed in a hotel there so I don't know if there are any major differences. Just assume that Belle picked out a hotel that caters to western tourists and tries to accomidate them in the manner that they are used to because I mentioned quite a few things that are standard in an American hotel.

**

* * *

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**Room 513**

_116, 117, 118, 119,…_

Wolverine grunted as his chest touched his thighs. He had quickly determined that unless he wanted to remove furniture, he did not have enough room to do his normal training regiment, so he would have to settle for a few early morning calisthenics. Now he was doing sit-ups with one ear trained to the room across the hall and waiting for the kids in it to wake. Clearly, neither of the Cajuns was an early riser. He had risen with the birds almost two hours ago and hadn't heard anything but light snores and deep breathing from their room yet.

_134, 135, 136,…_

Logan wished, again, that it wasn't too early for room service. He could use some breakfast. He wasn't willing to risk going to a restaurant or café of some sort and missing the teenage felons' departure; at least not when he didn't know their plans for the day and they were in a city where they would be hard to track.

_147, 148, 149, 150._

Wolverine popped up off of the ground and started to do jumping jacks. He'd have to stop somewhere today and pick up some non-perishables so that he wouldn't be stuck in this position again. Too bad he really hated cereal. It was too sugary for his palate. He much preferred ham and eggs. By the time he finished his jumping jacks, 20 minutes later, he finally began to hear signs of life from across the hall. One of them, the girl he presumed as he now felt fairly adept at telling the two apart, crawled out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Wolverine dropped to the ground and began doing push-ups.

_1, 2, 3, 4,…_

**Room 514**

Belle sighed as she brushed her teeth. Remy's hair had still been damp when she woke and she could almost imagine that the bathroom was still steamy from his shower. She wondered when he had finally gone back to bed. She silently praised the vast hot water tanks of hotels as she entered her own steamy shower. She might as well take her time because she had no intention of waking Remy before he was ready.

**New Orleans, Assassin Territory**

Julien Boudreaux cursed as he read the email from his sister. Where was that girl, anyway? It had long been a practice that no assassin would give out the details of their assignment to anyone, but he hadn't expected Belle to actually follow that policy. She had told him everything when they were kids but as she got older, she had become more secretive and lately seemed to avoid him as much as possible. He wondered what had suddenly possessed her to take a few extra days to sightsee. He had expected her to rush straight home. This was her fifth kill and her third solo assignment. She was due to receive her ranking upon her return, which would dictate what types of assignments she would receive until her next evaluation. His stomach burned with anger as he thought that she might have met a boy wherever she was. He could not understand how someone as smart as his sister didn't realize that the slobs who swarmed around her only wanted one thing from her. Ever since she turned fourteen, two years before she would be a debutante, her long legs and the golden halo around her head had drawn them to her like moths to a flame. Julien could understand why; she was voluptuous and practically glowed with vitality, but it made him sick to see the way such unsatisfactory individuals flocked to her. And none made him sicker than that mutie thief who continually won her affections. He had been glad when the boy's adoptive father sent him away. Julien was certain that without the creature around to seduce her (even Julien could not deny that the boy was seductive) his sister would come to her senses and they would be able to convince their father, together, to forget this foolish notion of marrying her off to some thief. With that thought, came fear. No one knew where the mutie brat had been sent, but Belle was a force of nature and Julien had no doubts that if she wanted to know something she would find it out. Julien still didn't know where his sister was, but he felt certain of where she was headed, to wherever the thief was. Julien smiled slyly. That silly girl who had a crush on him worked in the part of the Guild that organized their travel arrangements and false identities. He should go pay her a visit, and maybe later he would pay one to his sister as well.

**Room 514**

Belle shut off her hairdryer as she realized that one of the phones in the room was ringing. She grabbed a comb and hurried to answer it, surprised that it hadn't woken the sleeping thief yet. She hesitated a moment when she realized that it was his phone that was ringing and not hers, but she wanted to make the racket stop and she had heard Remy's ringtone for Jean Luc enough times to know that it wasn't him. _Dieu that man had interrupted so many dates._ "Bonjour," Belle greeted.

"Belle!?"

"De one 'n only."

"What de hell ya doin' answering Remy's cell?"

**Room 513**

Logan dropped his knees to the ground and sat up. His head tilted to the side, all of his attention focused on hearing the conversation across the hall. He could hear the girl perfectly, but he couldn't quite make out who was on the phone. He hoped that Fury's men were able to tap the connection.

**Room 514**

"Dieu, Lapin is dat how ya talk to a lady?" Belle noticed Remy stirring and cinched her robe tighter, heading for the door.

"You ain't no lady," Lapin snorted.

"Your awful brave when I'm on de oder side of de planet."

**Room 513**

Logan leapt to his feet when he realized that she was headed to the hall to talk. He dumped his ice bucket's contents on the floor. He needed an excuse to wander the halls in nothing but a pair of drawstring pants. He made it to his door and managed to open it just as the blonde across from him opened hers.

**Hallway**

"Look Belle, jus' put Remy on," Lapin said irritated. He was sick of their little game and this was important.

Belle had stopped dead, surprised to see a tall, muscular man wearing loose pants and dripping sweat suddenly appear before her. "Non," she replied, unconsciously licking her lips and hoping Remy hadn't picked up on her response to the stranger, who was now moving down the hall towards the ice machine. She shut the door to her room and leaned against it. She didn't want to move too far away from the device that Remy was using to disrupt any bugs that there may be in the hallway or room. She couldn't remember what he said its radius of effectiveness was, but he carried it in his pocket when they went out so she guessed it couldn't be too large.

"Belle, dis is Remy's phone an' I'm callin' Remy so jus' get Remy so I can talk to him."

"Non, he's still sleepin'," she replied easily.

"Den wake 'im."

Logan filled his ice bucket slowly and tried to make as little noise as possible.

"Non," Belle repeated, "he had one of his nightmares last night and I ain't wakin' him just so ya can jabber on about yo' newest computer game."

Logan turned his attention to the vending machine and began to peruse the selection, regretting that he didn't have any change.

"Merde, Belle. Dis be important."

"Let me decide dat."

"Damn it Belle, I need to talk to Remy," Lapin's frustration was beginning to get the better of him. He never did cope well with nerves. It was the reason he preferred working with electronics and computers to field work. He continued on in agitation, "Ya know, I shouda known you were dere. Anytime Remy gets into trouble you're dere. What are ya doin' dere anyway?"

"Dat's big talk comin' from ya. I don't remember being de one with Remy when ya'll…," she glanced down the hall at the man standing indecisively before a vending machine and lowered her voice, "…hotwired dat airforce bomber and went for a joyride."

Logan blinked. He couldn't have heard that right.

"We were twelve! Why can' anyone let dat go. We know it was stupid."

"Ya crashed in de gulf and I had to borrow Julien's boat to come get ya. You were lucky you had a waterproof cellphone."

"Ya still ain't told me why you're dere, and I wanna talk to Remy."

"Just consider us to be on our honeymoon and I'll let Remy know you called."

"Don' hang up!"

"Ya have 30 seconds."

"It ain't your business, it's his, but it's real important."

"I'm his wife now. Remember, ya attended our wedding? Anyt'ing dat concerns him concerns me, so spill."

"Someone's been hacking into his bank accounts and personal files. You know; adoption records school reports, dings like dat. And it's real subtle too, not'in amateur."

"I'll wake him and have him call ya right back."

"Finally."

"Oh, and do me a favor. Check my school records and see if I've been tapped."

"Hacked, Belle, de term is hacked."

"Whatever."

She shut Remy's phone and glanced down the hall. Logan was careful to keep his attention on the snack selection before him and not pay her any notice. He frowned when he realized that the only thing in the case that even looked edible were the pretzels. Belle moved down the hall to face the vending machine as well and he shifted to give her space. She pursed her lips and dug change out of the pocket of her robe and bought a bag of fruity candy and the last bag of pretzels. She waltzed back down the hall to her room and Logan snorted and followed, only to he realize that he had left the key card inside of it. He swore out loud and the blonde teenager turned to face him.

"Is there a problem?" she asked with much better English than she spoke over the phone.

Logan was about to answer when the door to room 514 opened again and a lanky figure wearing blue pajamas and dark sunglasses appeared. "Belle, what are you doing in the hallway," questioned the accentless voice.

"Food," she replied in the same flavorless English and proffered the bag of candy.

"Sugar!" the boy grinned and snatched it from her, than seemed to notice Logan staring at them for the first time, "can we help you with something?"

"Just locked myself out of my room," Logan replied gruffly, "got any suggestions?" He half hoped one of the two would pick the lock right in front of him, but he knew it wouldn't be that easy.

The boy arched an eyebrow and gestured grandly towards the couple's hotel room, "Come on in. You can use the phone to call the front desk."

Remy was careful not to display his unease with allowing the rough looking man into his and Belle's room. He had woken to feel an intense focus radiating from someone in the hallway, and he had sensed that it was directed at Belle. He was relieved to feel no lust within it but that just confirmed that she was being watched for other reasons. He wouldn't be surprised to learn that a plain cloths officer of some sort had been stationed in the hotel near them and suspected that that was what this man was. It was the first time that one of SHIELD's men had not looked like a Japanese business man, but perhaps they felt the American (Canadian?) dialing the front desk was more believable as a tourist. He wasn't likely to be local law enforcement. Still, there was nothing in the room for him to find and a show of trust might do more good than anything at the moment.

Logan glanced around the room before finishing his call. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary. It really did look like the hotel room of two vacationing students, except a bit neater maybe. He nodded his thanks towards the couple, "They're sending somebody up." Then he strode out of the room to wait.

**New Orleans, Assassin Territory**

Julien smiled as the slender woman he had pressed against the door of her office wound one of her legs around his calf. Her mousy brown hair had come untucked from the loose knot it had been in at the base of her neck and was now messily disarrayed. Julien didn't care much for brunettes but it hardly mattered. He wasn't thinking about the woman whose neck he pressed kisses against; he was thinking about his sister. He knew where to find her now. She was in Japan and had not left the city of her assignment. He took a small measure of comfort in the fact that she was making the thief come to her, rather than going to him. At least she still had her dignity. And if he had his say in the matter the thief wouldn't get her virtue either. As far as Julien was concerned the thief had been responsible for all of the problems with Belle. He was her first secret and Julien suspected the reason behind all of her secrets since. He was the reason for her first defiance of their father, her first rebellion. She would not give up her pet street rat when he joined the ranks of their enemies. Because of him she had been caught stealing. Because of him she had told lies. Because of him she had no time for… anything else. Because of him she was ambitious. She had been incensed when he reached master status in his guild at the tender age of fourteen; the youngest to do so in the history of the Thieves guild. After that she had pushed herself beyond endurance and reached master status within her own guild just after her seventeenth birthday. She was the youngest master in the history of the assassins guild. Julien himself hadn't reached master status until he was nearly twenty-two. The thief was the reason she came home with bruises from sparring, as if she should ever have to lower herself enough to get in a fight. He could only hope that she gave better than she got. What she did was an art form, striking with deadly grace before her victims knew what was coming. Julien had no intention of allowing the mutie brat to drag her any further into the gutter than he already had. Julien was going to Japan. He was collecting his sister, bringing her home, and knocking some sense into her; even if he had to tie her up and beat her to do it. He took a deep breath as his mouth broke into a predatory smile and the young woman with him gasped as he withdrew from their embrace.

**Kyoto**

Remy crouched on a shadowy ledge of Fukui Technologies. The vice-president, Gorou Hashimoto, was there, working late. Belle had informed Remy that Hashimoto was the man who contracted her guild to kill Ichiro Sakamoto. Remy intended to pay him a visit and find out how well he had covered his tracks. During their sightseeing that day, Remy and Belle had managed a few errands. They had stopped at one bank while they were sure they had lost their tail and by the time their tail was on their trail again the couple was three blocks from the bank, shopping in an outdoor market and looking at some paintings done by a local artist. The woman was hardly an undiscovered talent, but Remy had taken pity on her and bought one. She had looked like she needed the money. They had stopped at another bank later, in full sight of their tail, and Remy had 'snuck off' for a bit then come back. He hadn't actually been up to anything in that bank, but there was nothing like pointing suspicious eyes in the wrong direction. The first bank had been another matter entirely. It was risky infiltrating a bank in the middle of a day but they couldn't afford to waste time. Remy had been quick about it. He had gotten in, installed a device into their more secure computer system and gotten out. The device would allow Lapin to hack their files from New Orleans. Remy wasn't sure how it worked but couldn't help being amazed anew at how brilliant his cousin was. Theo had actually been given credit for its creation but Lapin had done nearly all of the work, fixing a faulty concept and working from Theo's hastily done sketch on a napkin. He had abandoned it, believing the idea impossible and Lapin had picked up and started playing with the idea, eventually getting it to work. So now Lapin was working on making sure there were no sloppy monetary transactions and Remy was going directly to the source to make sure they wouldn't be caught due to anyone else's carelessness.

Wolverine sniffed the air discreetly and looked around. The kid should be right around here somewhere. He kept his thoughts as quiet and closed in as possible. Somehow the brats kept losing him, and Wolverine was beginning to suspect that the boy was a telepath. The kid had slipped from his hotel room silently and presumably believed that he had left unnoticed, but there was no way for him to have accounted for the feral's heightened senses. He grinned when he saw a shadow pass over the window of the building. He knew where the kid was and Fury would be glad to have starting place to look for his dire conspiracy plot. Wolverine turned and headed back towards the hotel. He couldn't get in without making his presence known. It wasn't that he completely lacked stealth, but he had never bothered to learn how to cover his trail because usually after he was gone he didn't care who knew that he had been there.

**Room 514**

Remy slipped into his hotel room that evening to find his wife already in bed. She looked pale amongst the dark covers and her hair glistened in the moonlight as she sat up, momentarily giving her an ethereal quality.

"How did it go?"

"All'right. Dat was probably de most paranoid man dis Cajun's ever met. Dere won' be any loose ends on his side so long as he don' talk."

"Den maybe we should silence him," Belle easily replied.

Remy fought a shiver at the callous tone of his wife's voice. "Don' t'ink dat'll be necessary," he finally managed, "he won' talk and even iffin he did he can' give anyone any'ting dat would lead directly back to ya. Most people don' believe de Guilds exist, let alone give serious credence to any'ting dey hear 'bout dem. 'Sides de Guilds are real careful in how dey do business and Lapin an me made sure dere weren't no evidence to be found. It'd be his word 'gainst yours and talkin' would mean dat he'd have to admit his role in dis mess."

"Did he see ya?"

"Non. Spoke my best Japanese too. Even if he knows I ain't a native he couldn't have figured out where I'm from from my accent."

**Room 513**

Logan paused as he typed his report to Fury. He finally had conformation that not only did the girl do it, but she was Guild. They did exist.

**Room 514**

"You're sure Hashimoto won' be a problem?"

"I'm sure, Belle an' I'm goin' to take a shower now, so go back to sleep."

"Remy dis be serious! If he talks…"

"He ain't gonna and even if he did dere ain't any evidence, cherie. You're safe."

"Mais, if he talks mon pere will know dat I screwed up!"

"Dat what you be worried about!" Remy's voice finally left soothing completely and moved on to tight and strained, "Belle, dat really what ya worried 'bout? Dat your papa might be disappointed in ya? Ya made a mistake and ya fixed it, cherie. It's over. No one knows. Calm down and get some sleep."

"Mais…"

"Jus' get some sleep chere. We kin talk in de mornin'," Remy interrupted her as he closed the bathroom door behind him.

**Room 513**

Wolverine hesitated before sending his report to Fury. He wasn't certain that any of the couple's fight was important, beyond the name Hashimoto, so he decided against mentioning it and stuck to the facts. He sent the report in and asked what Nick wanted him to do about the girl now that they knew she was guilty. Then he settled back to wait for an answer.

**Room 514**

Remy froze as realized that he sensed a presence in his room other than his wife, who was radiating fear. He slipped out of the shower without turning it off and pulled his boxers back on. He slid back into the bedroom without even the slightest whisper of noise and extended his bo-staff as he approached the figure looming over his wife's bed. She had clearly gone for her gun but it lay discarded on the floor and she was pinned down by the man from across the hall, who seemed to have claws protruding from his knuckles. Remy charged his staff and swiftly brought it to rest against the man's throat. "I think you better step away from the pretty blonde," he stated in his most threatening voice, eyes glowing with anger.

* * *

**A/N II:** I tried to make Julien creepy without going overboard so you'll have to let me know how I did. 

And I've finally thought of a catastrophe. I don't know how logical it is and I'm sure that it isn't scientifically sound but it ties into movieverse canon! That's somewhat redeeming, right?


	6. The Beginning of the Storm

**Room 514**

Logan cursed mentally. He shouldn't have allowed himself to become distracted. He swallowed against the searing heat tucked into the nook beneath his chin. Logan had waited about fifteen minutes for Fury's response before deciding that he never was one for following orders and developed his own plan. It should have been easy. The girl was already in bed and the boy was in the shower. Logan knew from a couple days of eavesdropping that the boy took ridiculously long showers. He decided to go in real quiet like, grab the girl, and drag her back to his room for his own special brand of questioning. The boy shouldn't have even been wise to her disappearance until after he got his answers. All in all, not the most sophisticated plan. Apparently it wasn't one of his better plans either. He had underestimated the girl, gotten distracted, and the boy had managed to sneak up on him.

Normally, the sudden appearance of the boy wouldn't have bothered him, but he still didn't know what the kid's powers were. If there was one thing he learned during his short stay at the mansion (other than Summers was an ass who didn't deserve a woman like Jean) it was that young mutants who had just come into their powers rarely had much control over their abilities and could quickly become a danger to everyone around them when they were put under too much pressure. Wolverine had no doubt that he could easily get the better of two teenagers in a fight (although maybe not _quite_ as easily as he had originally assumed) but he wasn't as confident that the structure of the hotel or the other guests would survive.

Wolverine swallowed a frustrated growl. There was no need for the kid to think he was threatening him until he actually did so. This was not going well. The girl had reacted more quickly than he expected and proven to be one hell of a fighter. He just barely managed to get the gun away from her before she fired at him and he had been forced to reveal his claws to do it. Something he regretted because the initial shock of seeing them often helped him 'negotiate.' So now he was stuck in a position that he wasn't sure how to get out of gracefully. He didn't want to risk a full fight in a crowded hotel until he knew how much damage the boy could cause, and the source of his distraction was still lurking outside the young couple's window.

"Look kid," he started, "I can't let your wife up because she'll go for that gun and then we're going to have unwanted attention."

Remy was careful to keep his face impassive as he replied, "I don't see why anyone but you should be worried about unwanted attention." He felt like he was caught in a stalemate that he didn't know how to get out of. "You broke into our hotel room," he continued, "and are pinning my girlfriend, a young woman in her nightgown, to the bed against her will."

Remy was trying desperately to find a way out of the mess he and Belle were in, knowing that the mutant abilities he displayed were not enough to intimidate the man with foot long claws, but his own words drew his attention to the one thing he was trying not to think of. Belle's baby doll nightgown had ridden up about her hips and low around her shoulders during the struggle and now she lay on her stomach trapped beneath the larger man with his claws positioned above her neck in a manner that ensured any attempt she might make to buck him would only harm her. Remy cringed at the idea that the only thing protecting his wife from the man's claws was the thin wisp of silk she'd chosen to wear to bed. For a moment he thought longingly of the body armor that she'd sported three years ago when the violence between their guilds had broken a temporary truce and hit new peaks for a couple of weeks. He wished that he could will it onto her body, but he couldn't, and he didn't know what he could do to protect her.

Remy quickly threw away the idea of charging something else and allowing it to explode in order to show the man what he was really capable of, despite his words he really didn't want to risk unnecessary attention, and he doubted it would have the desired effect on the man. Likewise he discarded the idea of increasing the charge within his staff and therefore the heat against the man's throat. Remy wasn't sure he could stop a larger charge from blowing and he really didn't think intimidation tactics would work with this man. For some reason Remy had absolutely no doubts that the claws were extremely dangerous and could cause quite a bit of damage very quickly with very little force. He was unwilling to do anything that might cause the man to simply flex his wrists a bit and leave Belle headless on the bed before fully focusing his attention on Remy.

Wolverine glanced out the corner of his eye, trying to get a good look at whatever the boy held against his throat. The teenager was standing slightly behind him and was out of his line of sight so long as he could not turn his head. Wolverine swore that the object smelled metallic but all he could see was a pinkish glow that alternated between dulling towards red and brightening towards white. He wasn't sure what would happen if he tried to cut through it. He was distracted from his train of thought once again when he heard a soft scraping on the ledge by the window and his nostrils flared, trying to catch the scent of whomever lurked there. Every instinct he had screamed that the lurker was a danger and he knew he needed to regain control of the situation fast. He could smell the lie on the kid the minute he claimed that he didn't care if they drew attention to themselves but chose not to address it. Instead he calmly stated, "Look, kid. I ain't letting your girl up unless I know she won't go for the gun."

Remy hesitated. He knew that even if Belle agreed not to go for the gun she would reach for it the first chance she got. He considered trying to remove it from the area but was afraid the man would take it as a threat if he attempted to retrieve the gun himself. He scoured his memory for anything that he might have been taught about hostage situations but the only thing he had learned through the guild was that it was against guild law to take hostages in an attempt to escape a failed job.

Belle was incensed that she was being left out of the discussion taking place above her. She wanted to retort hotly that she would agree to no such thing but knew better than to act rashly. She bit her lip in frustration. She knew that Remy was silver tongued and could talk just about anyone into or out of just about anything but she didn't think that he could talk their way out of this and she didn't understand why he wouldn't just _do_ something. He should have just cracked the man's skull with his bo staff before the clawed man noticed he was there.

"Why should we agree to that?" Remy finally asked.

"'Cause we're about to have company and I for one don't want to be in this position to greet them," Wolverine hissed.

"What do you mean?" Remy asked. He was alarmed but managed to keep his voice level. Was the man expecting reinforcements?

Wolverine lowered his voice further before replying, "There's someone outside your window and there ain't no telling when their patience will run out."

Neither Remy or Belle was sure what to think of that. Belle wanted to look and check for the play of shadows that might indicate someone's presence but her head was turned the wrong way and she couldn't change position. Remy was not comfortable taking his eyes off of the man in front of him so he loosened his mental shields and extended his empathy, searching for any foreign presence. He registered one just outside the window and, while he did not know who they were or if they were connected to the clawed man at all, the coldness that their mind radiated made him shudder. Remy noted that the primary feeling from the lurker was a detached professionalism but there were certain undertones of anger, possessiveness, and maliciousness that frightened him. He realized that he'd actually brushed past the surface of the lurker's emotions and bile rose in his throat. He hadn't meant to enter anyone's mind; he hadn't meant to do anything more than open his senses and see if someone was there. He slammed his shields back in place but couldn't help noticing that he still felt the coldness radiating from the area by the window and wondered how he hadn't noticed it before.

Remy swallowed. "Can you retract your claws?" he asked.

"I can," Wolverine replied but made no move to do so.

"Retract your claws and I'll kick the gun under the dresser where no can get at it," Remy instructed.

Wolverine still made no move to retract his claws.

Remy sighed and slowly reabsorbed the charge from his bo staff. He wasn't at all sure that it was the right thing to do, but he decided to take the gambit and hope that lowering his defenses would convince the clawed man to do the same. After all, if the man wanted Belle dead she already would be and they couldn't stand there all night.

Wolverine slowly withdrew his claws and after that things happened very quickly. Even as Remy stepped around Wolverine and kicked the gun under the dresser Belle bucked and twisted in her captor's grasp but found she was no match for his strength. She did manage to drive an unsecured heel into his groin just as Remy's uncharged staff came whipping around to meet his chest with as much force as the athletic teenager could muster. The combined attack came as a surprise and did what neither of the young criminal's could do alone and knocked the older man backwards about a foot, but his grip on Belle was not immediately broken and she was pulled half the distance along with him.

The figure outside the window decided that this was the best opportunity they were likely to get.

As Wolverine was carried backward by momentum and his own weight Remy moved to position himself between the larger man and Belle. None of the three occupants noticed the small object that landed at their feet until it started issuing a thick, clinging, fragrant smoke that obscured their vision and caused them to choke. Wolverine's heightened senses were immediately assaulted. His sinuses burned as though they were suddenly filled with acid and tears streamed from his eyes. Remy rubbed at the moisture in his own eyes and tried to make out the shapes of his companions through the dense smoke. His unusual eyes could see more than most and he could see the heat their bodies produced but the tears blurring his vision made their two bodies look like one unidentifiable blob. Belle lacked the sensitivities of the two men but even her eyes watered as she yanked the one good strap of her nightgown back up over her shoulder and tried to make out her surroundings, wishing for a weapon.

The lurker was now fully within the entrance of the window and taking aim with the aid of infrared goggles at the female form within the smoke. The lurker alone felt in control of the situation and was pleased that the smoke bomb had been so effective in disorienting the room's occupants. The dark figure silently sent a small dart sailing through the air towards the young blonde assassin. Wolverine might have heard the dart as it whizzed through the air were his senses not so completely overwhelmed that he could think of nothing else. Belle herself suspected nothing, expecting a more physical attack, and readied herself for it. Remy's head swam and his world turned upside down as his view of the room and everything within it changed.

There were no adequate words to describe what Remy's world had become. He might have described it as great swirling masses of light, but he knew that wasn't the right word, for light was something he was familiar with and this wasn't light. He was surrounded on all sides by a buzzing that he felt rather than heard. It wasn't homogeneous either. All around him the buzzing pulsed at different speeds and had no cohesive harmony. Even the floor beneath him had been yanked out from under his feet and replaced with a vibrating mass. He was adrift in a spinning world and was lost in the chaos. His mind frantically tried to map out the areas which pulsed at different speeds, trying to give this strange world some structure, but it was overwhelmed and he frantically searched for something, anything, on which to focus. He finally noticed that one of the masses of vibrations, a very small one at that, moved through the rest with great speed. He focused his attention on it with desperation and no sooner had he fixed his mind upon it than there was a great explosion. Remy's world righted itself and the three occupants of the smoke filled room were thrown off their feet by the force of the explosion.

The only benefit the explosion seemed to have was that it dissipated the smoke enough for Remy and Belle to make out the dark figure crouched in the moonlight that still streamed through the open window. This time when the figure took aim Belle was able to dodge the dart headed for her and it sank into the mattress of the bed. Wolverine, whose senses were clearing as the smoke rapidly thinned and his healing factor kicked in, pulled the dart from the mattress and smelled it. "Poison," he said succinctly and moved swiftly towards the dark figure in the window.

Beneath their mask the figure in the window frowned. That had been unexpected. The first dart, which was certain to hit its mark, had flared for a split second with heat and then exploded in midair with a great deal of force. There was nothing in the chemicals contained by the dart that should have caused such a reaction and the person crouched within the window frame was taken aback by the inexplicable occurrence. Too late the would-be-assassin tried to dodge the hands of the powerful man that grasped the black swathed figure and threw it bodily into the room.

Belle threw a glance towards her husband, wondering what they should do. She was unarmed and there was no one between them and the door. The two strangers were currently struggling to fight one another in the cramped space of the hotel suite, but she knew that both meant her harm, and the hotel fire alarms were blaring. If she had expected to receive aid from the fifteen year old boy that she had married in secret, she was sadly mistaken. He sat, half sprawled, on the floor, blinking owlishly at the two people struggling in front of the window. The glazed expression in his eyes frightened Belle because she didn't know what had caused it and Remy was normally very alert.

Remy felt inordinately drained. He couldn't remember ever feeling so tired before and he fought there urge to sleep. He knew that it was important that he stay awake, although he couldn't think of why at the moment. He heard the word poison spoken and saw a man moving towards a huddled figure in a window but his brain refused to process the meaning of the word, the actions in front of him, or to recognize the new danger to the girl that he loved. He felt an arm slip behind his back as the world around him slowly faded to black.

**The Streets of Kyoto**

Julien Boudreaux's mind was completely focused on one thing, his younger sister. His father might have been proud to know that his oldest son had finally been able to concentrate so fully on a single subject, assuming that he did not know the subject or nature of those thoughts. Marius Boudreaux had often despaired when faced with his heir's inability to pay attention something for longer than thirty seconds and had frequently considered naming his daughter his successor rather than his son. It would have defied Guild tradition to appoint anyone other than his first born son leader of the Guild but the matter was inconsequential now that marriage preparations were underway. The Thieves Guild and Assassins Guild would be united beneath the leadership of Belle and Remy when Marius and Jean Luc felt the children were ready for the responsibility and chose to step down. It was a drastic measure and many members of the Guild resented it, none more so than Julien, who detested the idea that a thief would be given such power over his people. Julien despised the idea of Belle and Remy ruling the Guilds almost as much as the idea of the mutie thief touching his little sister. He paused in the streets and his eyes sought out a window in the building before him, the window of what he presumed to be his sister's hotel room.

Julien frowned when he saw the smoke leaking from the window. Fear clutched his heart as he recognized the wail of alarms within the building and he fought against the crowd that streamed out the doors of the hotel before he finally spotted the golden halo that indicated his sister's presence. She wore a torn nightgown that threatened to expose her ample bosom on one side and it was obvious that she had been fighting. She had a duffle bag slung across her shoulders and carried her large suitcase with her as she scurried down the street in bare feet. Julien was perplexed by his sister's state, but was far more confused by the fact that she was following a tall man, splattered with blood, and carrying a limp figure with auburn hair. Oddly the man alone in the trio was fully dressed and the boy, whom Julien now recognized as the mutie thief, was clad only in a pair of damp boxers. They would have been quite the spectacle in the streets of Kyoto had there not been so many guests streaming from the hotel in various states of dress and undress. Some carried bundles, some were empty handed, and as Julien watched his sister and the men she followed were once again lost within the swell of the crowd.


End file.
